sticksandbones | Relent or Resist

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Relent or Resist

Who: Vash the Stampede and YOU
What: Something strange is happening to Vash
When: Mid April to Mid May
Where: Throughout the grove
Warnings: Transformation horror/trauma. Finger/nail trauma in prompt 2, please be mindful!
i. You're the Pulse in my Veins — Mid April

[It starts as aches in his joints. To him, it feels not unlike the growing pains in his early years. Aging rapidly over the course of several years was, in a word, painful. It leaves him wondering if this is just another phase of that plan. The only other Independent he knew, aside from his brother, had met an untimely end. Anything else he knew had come from strictly lived experience. Grappling with the strange bumps and curves along the way had just become second nature.

Hence why, at first, he thinks nothing of it.

For his loved ones, the changes likely aren’t noticeable at first. His ankles have always shown a little in his pants, after all — though now he’s coming scandalously close to showing a little calf. He’s also always looked lanky, even if it’s not quite the case. So if his waist seems just that little bit narrower, who’s to say? Plus, he’s always changing out outfits now. The boots he’s wearing probably just gave him that extra few centimeters.

For others, ones that don’t see him every single day, the changes might be more obvious. He looks taller, more willowy. And as he bends over in the middle of town to rub at an aching knee, you might just catch the way his ears have grown just the faintest bit pointier.

Of course, if caught staring, Vash might just wave with a bright smile. Did his teeth always look so sharp?]

Is something wrong? Have I got something on my face?

ii. You're the War that I Wage — End of April, CW: FINGER/NAIL TRAUMA

[Vash is sitting in the Inn, eating breakfast when there’s a tink upon the table. There’s no warning, nor is there any pain. When he looks down, blood drips gradually onto the table, circling where the nail of his middle finger has fallen off.]

Uh - that’s new. [He laughs, a fluttering noise that sounds only a little nervous at the edges. He stands quickly, aiming for the paper towels. The less mess he makes in a public area, the better, right?

Unfortunately, by the time he reaches them, the ring and index fingers have suffered similar injuries. It leaves him a hell of a sight, right hand now streaked with blood, as he tries to frantically wrap his hand and clean up the mess.]

Bad time for the doctor to be gone! Way to go, body!

iii. Can you change me? — Beginning of May

[By the time the middle of the month rolls around, Vash looks altogether different. The height has become more obvious. The nails on his hand have been replaced with sharp claws. And yet somehow, someway, Vash just keeps smiling. Those that know him know just how false the grin is — it’s too wide, showing off sharpened teeth — and it never reaches those now alien looking eyes.

The changes aren’t just physical, either. With the shifts in his vision, the world has begun to look a lot different. It leaves him stumbling into doorways, or tripping over otherwise obvious objects. Every time, he’ll look up with a sheepish smile and wave off any concerns, even as he sits with his face in the grass or wipes away the blood from a busted nose.]

Oh, don’t go worryin’ about me! It’s all okay.

[He’ll probably try to walk away after that. And then promptly trip again.]

iv. From the Monster You’ve Made Me — Mid May

[Despite doing his best to bluster through whatever changes have begun to consume him, there comes a point where he simply can’t do so any longer. Namely, it happens one day when he’s working on Ourania’s statue. He strips off his jacket, aiming to lay it carefully over the Moon Goddess’s lap. Unfortunately, with his altered depth perception, he’s been dropping things more often than not lately, and it winds up splayed out against the ground.

No matter. It’s simple enough to bend down and pick it up, right?

Unfortunately, as he does so, a horrific tearing sensation rips itself along not one, but both shoulderblades. The bulge of fabric will become immediately obvious as something begins to wrench itself out from beneath his skin. And taken by surprise as he is, Vash can only scream as the pain erupts through him.

He collapses in that instant, crumbling to his knees as the waves of pain radiate through him. With each agonizing inch, fresh nerves seem to tear and come alight. He tries to reach back and rip at whatever seems to be attacking him, because surely that’s what it is, but to no avail.

He’ll have to wallow in the dirt on his face until someone comes to help, it would seem.]

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What about a healer, my friend?

[ Vash wasn't the only one who had come to the Inn to grab food, though Pure Vanilla was there for ingredients more than an actual meal. He had been aware of the other there, but content to let the man eat in peace. Uh, until this.

What on Earthbread is going on here?

He holds one hand out for Vash's, looking a little bewildered to the fact Vash is just dropping fingernails like their pinecones on a windy day. ]

[The moment he hears another voice, Vash's first instinct is to hide his hand behind his back. He winds up looking like a child hiding a broken toy more than anything, with a sheepish look on his face to match. It's a scene that hardly matches the gore currently spreading across the kitchen.]

O-oh, you know! Slammed my finger in a cabinet! That's all.

[He doesn't extend his hand just yet. The last thing he wants is to draw more attention to the way his body seems to be waging war against him. People are going to worry, and they already have so much on their minds. Especially Pure Vanilla.]

If you give me just a few minutes I'll get everything cleaned up in here! Promise!

[ The defiance is funny and Pure Vanilla, feeling better now that Clotted Cream is home again, quirks his eyebrow up in an amused gesture. He makes a point of tilting his head in a manner that makes it look like he's "looking" around at the blood Vash is leaving behind.

Like little guilty trails that say "it's worse than a slammed finger!" ]

Vash [ -the Stampede. Scolded. ] Let me see? Do not worry about the mess. Injuy first.

It's not an injury! Really!

[He just... doesn't know what to describe it as. There'd been nothing to precede it. If he could blame it on slamming his hand somewhere or jamming his thumb into something, that would be one thing. He's had enough injuries over the years to not let them phase him.

But this came from nowhere. And given everything else that had been happening - ]

It's nothing. [Is he saying it for his own benefit? Or Pure Vanilla's? Hard to say. At least he isn't still trying to clean up his mess at this point. He just stands there, hand cupped within a wad of paper towels.

Perhaps if he moved them, it would be back to normal? Just some trickery from the Forest.

His hand doesn't budge an inch.]

[ Well, if Vash won't let him see it, far be it from Pure Vanilla to continue to push. Instead he hums softly and steps closer, reaching out before pausing, hand stretched. ]

Pardon me, I am merely going to touch your cheek.

[ Which he does. He needs to touch skin for small injuries. Just a brush of his fingertips lightly across the curve of his cheek bone. Vash will feel tingles in his fingers (and quite possibly anywhere else if he's injured) - a soft rush of warmth that spreads and encases the nail beds, easing away any possible pain and gentle knitting the flesh together to stop the bleeding. ]

Allow me to help you clean up, then?

[ He doesn't really give Vash an option on that one, smiling sweetly at him and putting his staff off to the side to begin looking around for more paper towels. ]

[Vash doesn't even have time to flinch backward before it's said and done. He feels the tingles sure enough, but doesn't bother to look. For all he knows, it's something worse rearing its ugly head, and he really doesn't want to juggle that while also trying to figure out how to dissuade Pure Vanilla.]

It's really not that big of a deal, you know.

[Vash follows after him, bending under a cabinet or two in order to find proper cleaning supplies. A pair of gloves are found at least, which he gratefully plucks up. The paper towel is carefully peeled away, and his hand shoved into the latex, all without looking. The longer he avoids the sight, the better.]

You could just keep me company while I work?

It is a big deal to me, my friend.

[ His voice is soft as he says it, his smile gentle. He owes Vash a lot, he really helped him back when he thought Clotted Cream lost for good. His simple presence, his understanding. The distraction he so sorely needed.

Plus, he simply likes the man, and doesn't like to see him injured in any way. Not while he can help it.

The gloves going onto the hands makes him pleased, good, protect the healing skin, though he eyes the paper towels being tossed. That is a lot of blood... ]

Hm, many hands make light work! Please, allow me to assist?

[ There is some amusement in his voice, and his expression is crinkling up with it. It's a butting of heads in the most gentle way. The desire to help, faced with the desire to not burden another. ]

[Pure Vanilla is... far too kind to him. Vash doesn't know how to process the kindness, the gentleness, any of it. Yes, he'd been kind to the man before, but he ever struggles with his own self-perception. A sinner like him didn't deserve anything like this.

He swallows, throat bobbing with the weight of it.]

You're... sweet.

[He turns his focus to scrubbing the ground. He doesn't say yes to the offer, but he isn't rejecting it either. Considering how confident he is that the offer would be rejected, he doesn't even try to vocalize it. He just sets to scrubbing a nearby splatter with a silence that is less than companionable.]

[ That makes him blink, his expression softening into a gentle look of fondness. Since it seems like Vash has decided not to deny his aid, he moves to find himself some paper towels and cleaner to join Vash quietly in scrubbing up the blood. It requires he set his Staff aside, but he does in such a way as he can still see what he's doing.

Though as he cleans, it makes him worry to how much blood there simply is. His healing might have stopped it - or it might simply occur again. Something chronic?

Eventually he stops scrubbing, tossing the pink wads of towels away, then moves over to Vash. He kneels beside him and reaches out to touch his arm gently one one hand, fingers finding the edge of the glove. ]

Please...?

[So much for being past this. And unfortunately for Vash, Pure Vanilla has managed to work down his defenses just enough that... when it comes down to it? He can't bring himself to fight. He doesn't say anything, and his chin tips upward to avoid looking at those wandering fingers. Otherwise, though, he remains in place.]

Came out of nowhere. I was just trying to get some breakfast in me.

[He doesn't say anything about the other changes, but maybe Pure Vanilla can feel them. His voice comes from higher up than before, and maybe he'll feel the way Vash's arms is both thinner and longer.

Worse still, if Pure Vanilla is attempting to peer into his soul, he might just catch sight of the corruption there, just as it had been in everyone else before.]

[ He waits quietly, letting Vash decide if he wants to deny him again - and if he does, he will not push any further - or let him go ahead. The tilt of his head and lack of complaint means Pure Vanilla will slip his fingers under the edge of the glove to gently remove it from Vash's hand, setting it aside before focusing on the mans fingers.

Oh- that. That sure is a lack of fingernails. The skin is healed for now due to his ministrations, but what caused it in the first place? Keeping his touch gentle, he turns Vash's hand towards the light more, so he can investigate. There's more going on. He feels like he lost weight, but that doesn't explain the length gain? He turns Vash's fingers, keeping his motions slow. Hm.

When he opens his eyes to see if there's an illness, he has to shut them again instantly.

Ah. ]

Oh, my friend. I understand what is wrong.

[ Will plants bloom from his finger beds? Thorns? The creatures sunk it's teeth in. ]

[Vash doesn't know or understand the depth of Pure Vanilla's "sight." He doesn't need to, really. From the moment he looked in the mirror and saw his eyes begin to shift, felt the strange teeth in his mouth or began stumbling about, he had a suspicion. He wanted to hide behind strange Plant biology at first, but it didn't make sense to change out of nowhere, after over a century of stasis.

There was only one logical answer, one he had looked in the face and had been attacked by. He'd felt those claws sink in, saw those strange teeth. It's a mirror image of the man from the lighthouse.

And yet...]

It's not that.

[Denial is useless in this situation. It would only serve to put the others at risk if he continued to feebly cling to a hope he knows doesn't exist. But he isn't ready to face that reality. He'd only just put things right after leaving. He doesn't want to deal with more ripples of his foolish actions.]

[ The denial is something he understands. Even as the rot clings to the empty nail beds, souls clinging in turn to the rot. He doesn't want to look again. To see how deep the corruption might already be.

But the loss of weight. The lengthening of limbs. The fingernails falling off. What else will drop off the other? Will he turn more plant like, tree like? ]

O-of course not...

[ But he doesn't let go of Vash's hand, thumb rubbing over one finger as he 'stares' downwards at it. It's early stages yet... can he... force it back? Contain it? Can he save his friend before Vash falls further into it? He chews on his inner cheek, and gives Vash's hand a little squeeze. ]

You are ill, however, my friend. And should be resting, not scrubbing floors. Your blood or not.

[He feels the faintest shred of guilt for having snapped. Pure Vanilla is only trying to help, to make the process easier. Yet right now, Vash can't cope with the reality of what's happening to him. Things were getting back to normal. The consequences of his actions had passed.

He didn't want more. And he certainly didn't want other people to have to suffer as they watched him go through this.]

It's okay. I'm okay. [He smiles through it all but it feels... terse. Fragile, and on the verge of breaking.] It's not that bad, really.

[He draws his hands backward, shoving the bloodied gloves into his lap. He wants to hide them further. If neither of them have to look, then maybe they can continue denying the reality steadily creeping in.]

[ Oh, how they are the same. Care and love towards everyone else, worry for their health and well being, but to themselves? An almost cruel dismissal. I'm fine. Even as his body shifts, even as his fingernails fall off, to make room for whatever will take it's place. Souls chewing in rot, chewing into life.

Give me your burdens, but do not take any of mine, because I could not bear to see you weighed down even an inch.

He let's Vash take his hand back, but reaches out quickly to take the other into a quick, tight hug. To place a kiss on the side of his head, full of understanding. And just as Vash did for him that day, with the pizza, Vanilla will do for him.

So he pulls back and forces a smile onto his face, gently papping his hands against Vash's cheeks. ]

Fine, I'll let you have your way this once! But only this once. I'm a healer and next time you will listen to me. I have my ways in which to make you comply, after all. I know you like sweets.

[In the end, Vash knows where the fault for all of this lies. He was the one to rush off into the woods, abandoning those he cared for all for the sake of running from his grief. He'd stubbornly squared off with the man afflicted with corruption and this was the result.

He'd hurt people enough. Making them suffer with the truth of his transformation would only be cruel. The longer he clung to denial, the more likely those around him could continue in peace. Maybe it wouldn't last, but every minute he could buy for them was surely worth it.

He certainly doesn't deserve the comfort that Pure Vanilla offers. It almost breaks him, and even as Pure Vanilla pulls away, Vash finds himself struggling to keep his breath from hitching. His eyes are just a hint wide, and there might even be the faintest sheen of moisture that's quickly blinked away.]

You've got a deal, Pure Vanilla.

[He'll find a way out of that deal somehow, but that's bridge he can cross later.]

[ Vash's cheekbones get gentle little swipes of his thumbs across them to that watery eyed look, even as it's blinked away, and his expression softens. Yeah, he understands. Vash doesn't need to say anything. That look is enough.

He's seen it before in the mirror.

He debates a moment to himself then announces:]

For making me worry, I demand payment in another hug.

[ Then before Vash can fully protest or even really probably think about it, Pure Vanilla pulls him in again. There's room to pull away, as always with his hugs, but he pours as much as he can into it. I understand. I've walked that road. I am here. And Vash can pretend Pure Vanilla is being selfish and taking a hug, and in a way he is. Because, honestly, Sesa introduced him to the healing power of hugs way back when he first arrived and now Pure Vanilla is a slut for giving them out. ]

[He doesn't deserve this kindness, Vash knows that. But he relishes it all the same. And since he doesn't have the chance to protest Pure Vanilla's offer for a hug, he finds himself sinking into it. There's a surprising amount of strength to it, one that he wouldn't have expected from a self-proclaimed healer. With that strength comes comfort, like at least some of his fear is being pressed out of him.

Maybe that's why his arms lift, squeezing back just once. It's not nearly as strong, but it's a return of the gesture all the same. It felt good to simply be held, especially after shying away as he has been. Avoidance of those around him meant avoiding the good things too.]

Thanks. Really.

[Is he thanking Pure Vanilla for the help? For dropping the subject? For still trying. Even Vash himself isn't sure. He's still grateful, though.]

[ The return hug makes him smile lightly, and he squeezes gently, trying not to break the others back in any way. He huffs to the thanks, rubbing Vash's back gently with one hand, mindful of his horns as he wonks his head gently against Vash's. A little headbutt, and he tries to not follow it with another - harder - one. ]

You may regret allowing me to take hugs in payment. I'm afraid I've found I quite like them.

[ A gentle swerve, to allow Vash to breathe and think of other things. He pulls back a little so he can fuss over Vash's hair, brush the bangs away from his forehead. When was the last time the man clipped it. It covers his pretty eyes. Not that he can SEE Vash's eyes that well with his Staff and all being his sight, but he can see them well enough!

Have a gentle forehead kiss after he's brushed hair away, Vash. ]

[It's a strange thing, being fussed over like this. Despite the chill of fear welling within his chest, warmth manages to suffuse him all the same. Vash would be the first to admit that being cared for felt good, even if he would quickly deny himself the right in the next breath. It's still difficult to grasp the idea of deserving it.

But with his energy low, he doesn't so much as muster an argument for why Pure Vanilla should stop. In fact, by the end of it all, the corner of his mouth has lifted into a half-smile. And that's to say nothing about the faint pink now coloring his cheeks.]

I don't think I will. [He lets out a breath, something close to a laugh.] You give good hugs.

[He'll just have to find a way to fend them off in the future. Can't grow used to comforts, after all.]

[ The pink on Vash's cheeks makes Pure Vanillas smile bloom further. It's incredibly cute, and it and the smile suit the man far better than the pain, fear, or sadness did. So he continues to let himself fuss.

And laugh a little, tail wiggling gently, making staccato noises on the floor. ]

Ah, you can't encourage me, my friend! If you do, you shall turn me into a monster, and every moment will turn into me attempting to give one!

[ The threat is very real, as Pure Vanilla playfully looks like he's considering it again. There is still blood to clean, of course, but... ]

Ah, c'mon! At least space it out! [He waves his hands in front of himself, as if actually trying to ward off the attack. In truth, he briefly finds himself hoping for it, before remembering to scold himself out of it.] They won't be as effective, or somethin' right?

[His spirits are lifting, slowly but surely. He knows it won't last. The second he's alone, it'll all come crashing back in. Deluding himself into a few moments of mirth would surely only bite him in the ass.

But indulge he does.]

'sides, I'm sure you've got plenty of other things to do than to chase me down for hugs.

Ah, I have yet to experience diminishing returns on hugs yet myself. As an academic, I must put this theory to test, you understand.

[ He sounds thoughtful about the idea, raising a hand to his own cheek to tap a finger there in thought. Vash's spirits are raising, and honestly... it makes Vanilla happier than it should be. He loves seeing Vash happy. There's a sweetness that rolls off the other when he's happy, that wasn't there moments before.

It warms him, it makes him want to coax it out further.

And maybe. Just maybe. Vash makes him feel younger himself when the other is happy. ]

... Do I? Why, I don't seem to recall anything particular of importance I was doing...

Aw, man! [He can't even be mad at failing to talk himself out of his "predicament." If anything, he's delighted. The attention is nice, a cocoon he can gladly bask within. Maybe it's avoiding reality, but he's earned that much, right?

Of course, a few small reminders still work their way up. Namely the soft, if slightly amused way he points out their current situation.]

There's quite a bit of blood on the ground. And I should probably wash my hands up and get them bandaged at the clinic while I'm at it, don't you think?

[He doesn't sound entirely convinced. He knows it's what should be done, yes. But the comfort there is hard to pull back from.]

[ They can avoid reality as long as Vash needs to avoid it, though when he points out the blood, Vanilla hums gently. Though he lightly healed the ones that fell off, there is no telling when the others will flop off as well.

Or what else might become corrupted in the meantime.

Shoving that thought aside, he offers a sweet smile. ]

Divide and conquer? Why don't you head for the clinic, and I shall finish cleaning up here.

[ And to keep the mood light, his smiling turning playful: ]

Or, should you be keen on more hugs, my friend, we can work together and head over to the clinic together. I do warn you, however, the latter option might take longer.

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oleaeuropaea - 2024-06-02 02:24 (UTC) - Expand

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purevanillacookie - 2024-06-02 21:41 (UTC) - Expand

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Relent or Resist

ii

slaps an extended cw for nail stuff on here.

sir yer fingies just falling off

listen! the fingies are still there! probably!

(x)

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